


The Names Fade (Life Goes On)

by Therapeutic_Steter



Series: Prompt Fics [31]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (all OC related though), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Trope Subversion/Inversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therapeutic_Steter/pseuds/Therapeutic_Steter
Summary: anonymous asked: re soulmate-fic and a little prompt: What about the soulmate wont't accept Stiles as his soulmate. Stiles is crushed but Peter helps him. And a) they show the soulmate what he missed or b) Peter gets his way.





	The Names Fade (Life Goes On)

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up angsty and I am so sorry but I added a little OC tidbit in here. I…may have taken some artistic liberties with why he refused Stiles. I couldn’t help it! Who in their right mind would refuse Stiles? 
> 
> (Please excuse my horrible excuse at naming my OC. Poor fellow didn’t stand a chance, really. )

 

Peter hated the idea of soulmates.

Of course, this may have something to do with the fact that he’d been barely eight when he’d watched his name, written in black upon his wrist, fade to white before erasing completely, a sign that his soulmate had died. No name ever came to replace it and Peter used to garner looks of pity for it. He didn’t care either way. Life seemed different when you were no longer looking for your soulmate constantly. He made a success as a lawyer, cutthroat and uncaring, and there was no soulmate to act his moral compass to stop him.

Then he’d burned along with his family and soulmates were the last of his concerns.

Still, he couldn’t help but notice upon his revival, how the teens of the Pack seemed so focused on the idea of soulmates. Scott and Allison were disgusting in their cuteness, seemingly forgetting all others when they were near. Isaac moped for quite some time until the Alpha Pack came along and, with them, a reveal of Cora whose name matched Isaac’s own. Erica and Boyd were inseparable, whether that was because of being soulmates or because of their torture at the hands of the Alpha Pack, Peter couldn’t say. And Lydia and Jackson were an anomaly; they seemed to loathe each other as much as they loved each other sometimes.

“I bet Matthew Davis is a supernatural creature,” Stiles said one night when only he and Peter were left behind after everyone had slunk off with their soulmate and Derek had went to brood somewhere. Peter didn’t keep tabs on his nephew, after all. Peter looked over at Stiles, watching the boy study his soulmate’s name. “Kind of sounds like a supernatural name, yeah? I’m familiar with werewolves. Maybe he’ll be a werewolf.”

“Why are you asking me?” Peter drawled. “I don’t know every werewolf in existence.”

Stiles shot him a look. “Well what about your soulmate. Not looking for them?”

Peter waved him off. “Died when I was young. Never got a new name. Not that I’m particularly concerned; I’ve always been partial to making my own choices and not having the universe decide who I should be with.” Not that he would’ve been against being with a certain human, he thought, watching Stiles as the boy turned back to his soulmate mark. They’d gotten closer after all the attempts on the Pack’s lives that they’d worked together to avoid and, honestly, Peter was a little taken with the young human. Unfortunately it seemed the boy was just as obsessed with the idea of his soulmate as the other teens.

“Do you think they have ‘Stiles’ or my real name written?” Stiles wondered aloud.

“It might have changed, but it’s probably your real name,” Peter said. “The universe is finicky about those kinds of things though, so who knows?”

Stiles chuckled. “You are really jaded, dude.”

“And you’re on your way there,” Peter drawled. Stiles snorted, humor in his eyes, and Peter counted it as a win.

“Think I’ll meet them soon?” Stiles asked curiously.

“Getting worried?” Peter said.

“Most people meet their soulmates young,” Stiles said. “Eighty-five percent of soulmates have met before the parties are eighteen. Not counting cases where the age difference is greater than three, that is.”

“You know a lot of statistics,” Peter pointed out. “But unfortunately, you’re at the whims of the universe. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. I would focus on making yourself happy without them and, if you meet, go from there.”

Stiles gave him an odd look before he smiled. “You know, you’re not that bad at this advice business,” he said tentatively.

Peter rolled his eyes fondly. “I try,” he teased, and Stiles threw a decorative pillow from the couch at him, making Peter laugh. “Just don’t let concern for your soulmate consume you,” he warned. Stiles grinned cheekily, winking.

“Don’t worry, dude. I would never forget you,” he teased, and Peter flicked him off. Stiles snorted and returned the bird. Peter really hoped Stiles spoke the truth. Even if his romantic interest was never returned, he was willing to call Stiles one of his few friends and he hoped he wouldn’t lose that when Stiles found his soulmate.

…

“Dude! Dude!” Scott yelled, nearly running into Stiles as he came up to him at the Pack meeting. “Guess what?”

“What?” Stiles asked.

“So I was in class yesterday, right? And the professor was putting us into groups for our projects and you will _never_ guess who one of my partners is.”

Stiles hummed. “Beyoncé?” he teased.

“Dude, come on!” Scott said, hitting his shoulder. “Matthew Davis! Your soulmate!”

Stiles’ eyes widened and the rest of the Pack stopped, looking at them just as surprised. “What?” Stiles said.

“Yeah, I know, crazy right? He’s got ‘Mieczyslaw,’” he butchered the pronunciation of Stiles’ first name, wincing but pushing through, “‘Stilinski’ right there on his wrist. I told him I knew you, and he wants to meet up. I got his number for you and everything.” Scott was nearly vibrating in excitement.

“My soulmate,” Stiles repeated, still a little shell-shocked. “Well, okay then. Yeah, give me his number, I guess,” he managed. Scott beamed, scrolling through his phone to give Stiles the number. Stiles blinked and looked over Scott’s shoulder, meeting Peter’s gaze. The man looked like someone had just pulled a rug out from under him and Stiles frowned, almost asking what was wrong. Then the man gave Stiles a quick smile—one so obviously fake that it was worse than if he’d done nothing—before turning and leaving the room. Stiles went to follow, but Scott reached out for his arm and began giving him the number. Stiles decided to try and talk to Peter later, concern in the back of his mind as he mechanically took his soulmate’s number down from Scott.

…

Stiles shifted in line at the coffee shop of campus nervously. He was about to meet his soulmate and he had no idea what to say. He was wearing the nice clothes Lydia had picked out, had fixed his hair, and still had no idea how this was going to go.

“Stiles,” the barista called with his order. He tried to smile, nerves fluttering within him, and he took the coffee carefully, turning to try and find a seat in the crowded coffee shop. When he’d suggested this as the meetup place, he hadn’t expected it to be so busy. What if he couldn’t find Matthew? What if he thought he stood him up? What if—

Stiles stumbled over the slick flooring, almost taking a nosedive into another guy’s chest. He looked up, apology on his lips, wincing under the heat of the other man’s glare.

“Hey, sorry man,” he tried, edging to the side so he could get by.

“Whatever,” the man grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I swear, why my soulmate wanted to meet _here_ of all places,” he complained out loud.

Stiles eyes widened and his heart was fluttering like crazy. “Um…Are you…Matthew, by chance?”

The guy turned back to Stiles, eyes narrowed in judgment as he looked Stiles up and down. “You’re Stilinski then,” he said, not even attempting to say his first name. Stiles couldn’t really blame him; Stiles had trouble saying it on a good day. Still, the contempt in the man’s voice set off a few warning bells.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Stiles offered. “Talk?”

“Sure,” the guy shrugged, turning for the door without looking back at Stiles. Stiles frowned but hurried to follow.

“Sorry about suggesting that place,” Stiles felt obligated to say. “I’ve never been there while it was that busy.”

Matthew waved him off. “You didn’t think, I get it,” he said. Stiles frowned unhappily; he didn’t like the connotation there, but this was his soulmate.

“Look, I’ll be honest. Scott seems like a cool guy and I wanted to give you a chance, but I just don’t see us happening,” Matthew said after a moment, turning and giving Stiles a deadpanned look. Stiles almost flinched under his scrutiny, suddenly more self-conscious than he’d ever been.

“Dude, you don’t even know me,” Stiles tried to laugh it off, even as his insides crumbled and he fought off the urge to cringe. This was going horribly. How was this guy his soulmate?

Matthew scoffed. “Yeah, but I already know enough.” He raised his brow imperiously, eyes looking Stiles up and down with contempt.

Stiles felt a spark of anger and internally clutched desperately at it, hoping to keep the hurt at bay until he could at least find a nice secluded place to breakdown.

“Well you’re nothing but a douche,” Stiles snarled, lip curling. “I’ve known you for five minutes and you’ve already shown yourself to be a total asshole.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Go cry yourself to sleep, for all I care. Maybe the universe will catch on to this fuckup and take your loser name off my wrist. Should’ve chalked you up as a lost cause when I saw that sneeze of a first name you have.”

Stiles gritted his teeth, face flushing in rage and embarrassment. “You… _Fuck you!_ ” he growled, turning and walking away. He threw his coffee in the trash without having taken even a sip, tugging his sleeves down low to hide Matthew’s name on his wrist. His hands clenched tightly and he felt disgust and mortification in his gut.

“Such a jackass,” he muttered to himself, eyes stinging. “Motherfucker doesn’t deserve me,” he added quietly, mentally forcing himself not to slouch and kick at the sidewalk like a pouting child. “I’m a goddamn prize.”

Stiles didn’t even question why his feet brought him to Peter’s apartment complex. He keyed in the man’s code to get into the door, still angrily muttering to himself as he stomped up the stairs.

“Stiles?” Peter asked as Stiles used his key to get into the man’s apartment. He was lounging on the couch with the HGTV channel paused on the television, looking adorable in his lazy day clothes and fluffy un-styled hair.

Stiles looked at the man, thinking about his blank wrist, about Matthew, about all the shit that was his life. Stiles felt his composure breaking, his lip quivering, and Peter was off the couch and across the room in seconds.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, reaching out hesitantly.

Stiles felt the tears spill and Peter had apparently decided he was hugging him because he pulled Stiles close and let him hide his face against his shoulder. Stiles’ fingers twisted in Peter’s soft shirt and he bit his lip to fight sobs.

“My soulmate is an asshole, and not the fun kind. I want a refund,” Stiles managed to get out, shaking as the pent up hurt tried to find an outlet.

Peter hummed in acknowledgment, holding Stiles tighter.

“Stupid universe, thinks it knows everything,” Stiles complained, nuzzling against Peter’s neck and slowly calmly his breathing. “Fuck this shit. I don’t need some higher power telling me who it thinks I’m perfect for. I can make my own damn decisions.” Stiles pulled away, holding Peter’s shoulders. The man raised a brow in question, but unlike Matthew, he didn’t look like a dick, he just looked inquisitive.

“I’m going to eat your secret stash of chocolate turtles and watch HGTV with you,” Stiles decided, nodding to himself. Peter quirked a small smile.

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “And then, next Friday, we’re going to go out because I know you’ve been interested in me but haven’t wanted to push it because of this whole soulmate thing. Well fuck fate. I like you, you like me. We should at least give us a chance.”

Peter chuckled. “Do I get a say in this?”

Stiles gave him a look, smirk curling the edge of his lips. “Well I mean, if you don’t want to…”

“I never said that,” Peter cut in, leaning closer and softly brushing his nose along Stiles’.

“That’s what I thought,” Stiles murmured, lips brushing against Peter’s cheek. “Now give me chocolate,” he added, giggling when Peter huffed, pulling away to go get his not-so-secret stash.

Stiles stole Peter’s spot on the couch, curling up but leaving a space for Peter next to him. The man returned, giving Stiles the box of chocolate turtles only after stealing one for himself. Stiles couldn’t help his fond smile, dragging the blanket around both of them and burrowing against Peter’s side, making the man wrap his arm around him securely. He could move past this, and he felt confident that Peter would be at his side.

\-----coda-----

Matthew was working in the group lab, mostly ignoring his other partners who were too busy chatting to take the lab seriously, when he noticed. He paused, setting the chemicals down and stepping away from the table.

“I’ve got to go,” he announced, working to keep his voice steady as he pulled off his equipment, feeling a sickness settling in his stomach.

“Matt?” Scott asked. He was a nice guy, seemed genuine, but he clearly hadn’t heard how Matt’s encounter with his friend had gone yesterday.

Stiles.

Matt bit the inside of his cheek as just thinking about the other boy, grabbing his bag and turning away from his partners.

“You guys are going to have to finish up. I’m not feeling well,” he said, head hung low as he hastily retreated from the room. He practically ran into the nearest bathroom, slamming the door shut and barely managing to make it before he threw up into the toilet.

“Fuck,” he spat, shaking as he used his trembling hand to wipe his mouth. His eyes caught on his wrist again, eyesight getting blurry even as the black writing there slowly seeped away, fading to gray before vanishing before his eyes.

 _Mieczyslaw Stilinski_ , he thought, tears spilling over even as he tried to smile. He was glad his soulmate would have a second chance, to get someone more suited for him than Matt. His fingers curled around his wrist, covering the now blank skin, and he held his head in his other hand.

The doctor had given him just six months to live with him refusing chemo. Stiles had seemed like a nice guy, kind and adorable, hopefully resilient. Matt would rather he see him as an asshole he could move on from than force him to stay at a stranger’s side and watch Matt whither up on himself. Honestly Matt had hoped he would never have to meet his soulmate, but Scott hadn’t let it go once he’d accidently seen a flash of his friend’s unique name written on Matt’s wrist. All things considered, Matt just hoped he could finish up the semester and graduate; it was the only thing his mom had wished for him before the same cancer had taken her. He just didn’t have time or energy to spend on a soulmate.

 _Sorry, Mieczyslaw,_ he thought the words he could never say. He shook, heart arching and stomach churning. He should get up, had to collect himself, but right now he needed a moment to mourn his soulmate who never was.


End file.
